Thursday, June 9, 2011

New Review For Love Tattoo!

With a new guest review of LOVE TATTOO just out over at The Forbidden Bookshelf,  I thought I'd shift focus for the blog today and feature a link to that review along with an excerpt from LOVE TATTOO with the reminder that the sequel, LOVE SCARS, is coming soon from Evernight Publishing.  When I have a confirmed date, I'll share it with my readers and friends!

http://www.theforbiddenbookshelf.com/2011/06/guest-review-love-tattoo-by-lee-ann.html?zx=c12fb40cc7f959ce

Excerpt:

Until I inhaled the heady scent of his cigarillo, I didn’t

know he stood at my side, waiting. He stood still as a stone, quiet as

a monk until I turned to him. I touched him, my hand straying over

his rock hard arm like a roaming butterfly seeking a spot to land.

When he turned his face toward me, it looked as vulnerable as I had

seen it, open, and marked with poignant yearning. I could see that my

opinion mattered to him and that moved me.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“I do, Will. I don’t know why but it feels like home.”

Swift as a striking snake, he tossed the small cigar and lifted

me into his arms. He held me there like a child or a wounded woman

without effort and I put my arms around his neck to steady myself.

His rapid move spun my head like the slot machines at Fitz’s and

before I could catch my breath, he kissed me with such power that I

felt myself drown in the kiss. All my sense of self submerged in him

as I awakened to his passion. His kiss blasted my mouth like a

winter blizzard, his tongue pushed through my lips almost violent

with his desire. Beyond the physical, however, I felt his love pouring

into me, like sweet spring water into the mouth of a heat stroke

victim. That emotion succored me and grounded me so that I knew

that like mine, his feelings grew from deep roots.

He carried me, still kissing me, through the portico and onto

the porch. I thought he would fumble for a key in his pocket but Will

kicked at the door, which opened, swift and smooth. Inside, I saw

nothing in the dimness until he flipped a switch. Light flooded the

entry hall and illuminated the open wood staircase that climbed

upward then curved, graceful as a ballet dancer. Inside, the illusion of

a castle faded, leaving instead the impression of a grand house from

an earlier age. A chandelier created from dozens of glass prisms

dangled from the high ceiling and as I glanced upward, the rush from

our entrance made several of the prisms dance.

Whatever I expected judging from the exterior, it wasn’t this.

No open beams, stone floors, or faux suit of armor carried out the

castle motif. Instead, what I saw so far exuded an aura of simple yet

gracious living. I liked the open appeal of the entry hall very much.

The fact that little furniture – just the table with lamp before the

window, a single brocade chair, a grandfather clock, and an upright

coat rack – was visible expanded upon the idea of space.

“Do you like it?” Will asked cautiously.

“I like it very much.” I strolled deeper into the area, admiring

the simple grace. “Now I want to see the rest. How many rooms are

there?”

“Fourteen.” He delivered the number as if it were small.

“Do you really want to see them all tonight?”

Although his voice sounded mild, his eyes scorched me

with blue fire. I wanted to see every room but I checked the clock.

Time somehow stretched out and then sped up in his presence and I

had no idea how late it might be. Just as I looked at the old clock, it

bonged the hour with deep notes that vibrated through my shoes.

Three o’clock in the morning. Dawn would not arrive for almost

three more hours.

“I want the quick tour.” I said, sending him a gaze back that I

hoped sizzled with heat. “There’s time.”

“Aye.” Will said. “We have time. Follow me.”

A door that opened to the right of the entry hall led into a

long, spacious room that I would have to call a parlor or sitting room.

At the far end, a huge stone fireplace commanded most of that wall.

One wall faced out toward the wild tangle of forest and the others

featured tapestries that looked very old. A desk sat beneath the

windows, complete with an up to date computer, monitor, and printer.

A long vintage— but far from antique— crushed gold velvet couch

sat before the hearth and two chairs of the same material flanked it.

Bookcases filled some of the wall space, filled with many volumes. It

felt cozier than I expected but it looked somehow like the shabby

receiving room of an English manor somewhere.

I nodded my approval and said, “Lead on, MacDuff.”

With a low chuckle, Will returned to the entry hall and led me

through a door almost hidden beneath the stairs. It opened into a

hallway that ran the remainder of the length of the house. Rooms

opened from it and I peeked into each one with Will at my side.

In the formal dining room, a heavy table and matching chairs

dominated the center of the room. On one side, a matching sideboard

stood, regal as a butler displayed some crystal that even I could

identify as Wexford. Heavy golden damask drapes covered the

window and coordinated with the soft carpet that covered the floor.

A china cabinet held what looked to my untrained eyes like fine

Wexford dishes. Dust piled deep though on everything. I ran my

finger over the top of the sideboard, leaving a line scratched in the

dust.

“Don’t you ever use this room?”

“I have not,” Will said, sliding one arm around my shoulders.

“I’ve never had any reason to use it. I don’t entertain.”

“Then why have a dining room?” I asked, curious.

“Most of the furniture came with the house.” Will said. ‘That

added to the charm of it all.”

Now that made sense, I thought. All the furnishings seem to

fit this amazing home.

Downstairs, I toured the rest of the rooms, a surprisingly

modern kitchen with stainless steel appliances, a half-bath in what

must have once been a closet, and another sitting room, this less

formal or large as the first. We did not enter a small room near the

kitchen, either, and I wondered why.



Until I inhaled the heady scent of his cigarillo, I didn’t

know he stood at my side, waiting. He stood still as a stone, quiet as

a monk until I turned to him. I touched him, my hand straying over

his rock hard arm like a roaming butterfly seeking a spot to land.

When he turned his face toward me, it looked as vulnerable as I had

seen it, open, and marked with poignant yearning. I could see that my

opinion mattered to him and that moved me.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“I do, Will. I don’t know why but it feels like home.”

Swift as a striking snake, he tossed the small cigar and lifted

me into his arms. He held me there like a child or a wounded woman

without effort and I put my arms around his neck to steady myself.

His rapid move spun my head like the slot machines at Fitz’s and

before I could catch my breath, he kissed me with such power that I

felt myself drown in the kiss. All my sense of self submerged in him

as I awakened to his passion. His kiss blasted my mouth like a

winter blizzard, his tongue pushed through my lips almost violent

with his desire. Beyond the physical, however, I felt his love pouring

into me, like sweet spring water into the mouth of a heat stroke

victim. That emotion succored me and grounded me so that I knew

that like mine, his feelings grew from deep roots.

He carried me, still kissing me, through the portico and onto

the porch. I thought he would fumble for a key in his pocket but Will

kicked at the door, which opened, swift and smooth. Inside, I saw

nothing in the dimness until he flipped a switch. Light flooded the

entry hall and illuminated the open wood staircase that climbed

upward then curved, graceful as a ballet dancer. Inside, the illusion of

a castle faded, leaving instead the impression of a grand house from

an earlier age. A chandelier created from dozens of glass prisms

dangled from the high ceiling and as I glanced upward, the rush from

our entrance made several of the prisms dance.

Whatever I expected judging from the exterior, it wasn’t this.

No open beams, stone floors, or faux suit of armor carried out the

castle motif. Instead, what I saw so far exuded an aura of simple yet

gracious living. I liked the open appeal of the entry hall very much.

The fact that little furniture – just the table with lamp before the

window, a single brocade chair, a grandfather clock, and an upright

coat rack – was visible expanded upon the idea of space.

“Do you like it?” Will asked cautiously.

“I like it very much.” I strolled deeper into the area, admiring

the simple grace. “Now I want to see the rest. How many rooms are

there?”

“Fourteen.” He delivered the number as if it were small.

“Do you really want to see them all tonight?”

Although his voice sounded mild, his eyes scorched me

with blue fire. I wanted to see every room but I checked the clock.

Time somehow stretched out and then sped up in his presence and I

had no idea how late it might be. Just as I looked at the old clock, it

bonged the hour with deep notes that vibrated through my shoes.

Three o’clock in the morning. Dawn would not arrive for almost

three more hours.

“I want the quick tour.” I said, sending him a gaze back that I

hoped sizzled with heat. “There’s time.”

“Aye.” Will said. “We have time. Follow me.”

A door that opened to the right of the entry hall led into a

long, spacious room that I would have to call a parlor or sitting room.

At the far end, a huge stone fireplace commanded most of that wall.

One wall faced out toward the wild tangle of forest and the others

featured tapestries that looked very old. A desk sat beneath the

windows, complete with an up to date computer, monitor, and printer.

A long vintage— but far from antique— crushed gold velvet couch

sat before the hearth and two chairs of the same material flanked it.

Bookcases filled some of the wall space, filled with many volumes. It

felt cozier than I expected but it looked somehow like the shabby

receiving room of an English manor somewhere.

I nodded my approval and said, “Lead on, MacDuff.”

With a low chuckle, Will returned to the entry hall and led me

through a door almost hidden beneath the stairs. It opened into a

hallway that ran the remainder of the length of the house. Rooms

opened from it and I peeked into each one with Will at my side.

In the formal dining room, a heavy table and matching chairs

dominated the center of the room. On one side, a matching sideboard

stood, regal as a butler displayed some crystal that even I could

identify as Wexford. Heavy golden damask drapes covered the

window and coordinated with the soft carpet that covered the floor.

A china cabinet held what looked to my untrained eyes like fine

Wexford dishes. Dust piled deep though on everything. I ran my

finger over the top of the sideboard, leaving a line scratched in the

dust.

“Don’t you ever use this room?”

“I have not,” Will said, sliding one arm around my shoulders.

“I’ve never had any reason to use it. I don’t entertain.”

“Then why have a dining room?” I asked, curious.

“Most of the furniture came with the house.” Will said. ‘That

added to the charm of it all.”

Now that made sense, I thought. All the furnishings seem to

fit this amazing home.

Downstairs, I toured the rest of the rooms, a surprisingly

modern kitchen with stainless steel appliances, a half-bath in what

must have once been a closet, and another sitting room, this less

formal or large as the first. We did not enter a small room near the

kitchen, either, and I wondered why.


LOVE TATTOO available in all the usual places, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, All Romances ebooks, Manic Readers, Bookstrand...

Don't forget to stop by The Romance Studio today either - a featured release launch party is now underway for my new contemporary romance, LOVE NEVER FAILS, with excerpts, prizes and more!


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